This Sorrowful Life
by Silver Dog Demon
Summary: *Spoilers for 3.15* A simple two-shot detailing Daryl's return to the prison after finding and dealing with Merle.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello fellow Walking Dead fans, nice to meet you! I just had to write this after last night's episode, a little bit of catharsis for all the emotions. Thank you for stopping by and I hope you enjoy. :) For now this is a one-shot.

**Warning: **Spoilers for episode 3.15 This Sorrowful Life. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Walking Dead or it's character, I am merely borrowing them and will put them back when I'm done.

The sun had nearly set and darkness was creeping up on the prison. Daryl had yet to return from retrieving Merle and the group was on edge, nervous, worried that something had happened. Rick paced on the guard tower's narrow walkway, listening and looking for any sign of Daryl. Michonne leaned on the railing, her back to the forest, watching Rick with her arms crossed. The group had heeded Daryl's request not to come after him for today but Rick knew if the hunter hadn't returned by morning they'd be out looking for him. He let out a sigh and grasped the railing, head down and eyes closed – many thoughts plagued his mind.

"I'm sorry for even considering it. The deal with the Governor. Daryl was right, that ain't us." He chanced a look at Michonne.

"Don't be." Michonne replied, leveling a stare at him. It was all she was going to say on the matter. She couldn't say she blamed him for considering the offer – she was new to the group and they were a close-knit unit with kids to think about. But she was grateful both Rick and Merle decided to let her go. Well she was more _surprised_ that Merle let her go but grateful, nonetheless.

The sound of gravel churning and an engine running caught their attention. A car was approaching the prison. Rick took a closer look with the scope but with darkness falling and the car's headlights he couldn't see much.

"Looks like a black car . . ."

"Let me see." Rick handed the gun to Michonne to take a closer look.

"That's the car Merle hotwired but I can't see who's driving it."

The car stopped at the gate, waiting. Then, both Rick and Michonne could see Daryl waving his crossbow from the driver-side window. The rest of the group, who had been outside pretending to enjoy the summer evening air but were actually anxiously awaiting Daryl's return, approached the gate and it was Carol that unlocked and slid it open for him. Rick and Michonne came down from the watchtower and joined the rest of the group.

Relief washed over Rick, grateful to see Daryl alive but it was short-lived when, instead of parking the car, Daryl drove it into the field, near the graves of those they had lost, and stopped. The car door opened and he stepped out. Even from this distance everyone could tell something was wrong.

Rick and the rest of the group picked up the pace as Daryl walked to the back of the car and popped the trunk. He braced his arms on the car and stood there, staring into the trunk, lost in his own thoughts as the group approached. The smell of death assaulted their noses and made their eyes water.

"Daryl?" Carol questioned.

Ignoring her, Daryl reached into the trunk and heaved Merle's body from it with a loud grunt. Daryl's arms were wrapped around Merle's shoulders and his head lolled to the side, out of the group's vision. The weight was too much for an exhausted Daryl and his legs collapsed underneath him. Everyone let out a collective gasp at the sight of Merle's face, fully realizing what had happened – Daryl was forced to take down his own walker-turned brother. He sat there, eyes squeezed shut and hunched over his dead brother's body, grasping it so tightly his knuckles were white. Not a sound escaped him but as Rick got closer he could tell Daryl was shaking, badly, trying to hold his emotions at bay. He ordered Glenn to retrieve a shovel and Maggie back up to the watchtower to keep guard.

"Daryl? Daryl, let me help you with him." Rick knelt down next to the Dixon brothers and reached a hand towards Merle.

"_Don't touch him!" _Daryl reacted like a rattlesnake, snarling at Rick and violently shoving him away, glaring him down. The pain in those blue eyes floored Rick. Having just lost Lori himself he was no stranger to grief but Daryl's pain was different – it was volatile, red-hot and _burning_. It terrified Rick to see Daryl that way – usually the hunter was reserved unless his temper was provoked but this raw, _hurting _emotion he was seeing was completely new.

"Okay, okay, I won't touch him," Rick's hands were up in a sign of surrender, "I've got Glenn bringing you a shovel so whenever you're ready . . . And we're here for you okay? All of us."

Rick stood up and backed away to give Daryl some space. Glenn returned with the shovel and leaned it against the car. Carol ushered the rest of the group away, knowing Daryl wouldn't appreciate all the onlookers. But she and Rick stayed, keeping their distance; they stood by in silent support.

Eventually Daryl slid his brother from his lap and made it to his feet. Grabbing the shovel he stalked to what was supposed to be Carol's grave and re-opened the earth. He was tired, physically and emotionally, and he didn't much see the point in digging a new grave when one was already available and easier to dig out.

Finally, sweaty and covered in dirt and grime, Daryl had the grave dug up. He stuck the shovel in the ground and approached Merle's body. He grabbed Merle from under his arms and, trying to ignore his brother's now mutilated face, tugged and heaved and pulled until the body lay where it would spend eternity.

Rick approached again, cautiously, as Daryl grabbed for the shovel.

"I can do that for you – you're exhausted, Daryl."

"No. Jus' leave me be." Daryl turned and started shoveling dirt back into the grave. Fatigue had made his shaking worse but he was determined to see this through. Rick sighed and walked away, towards the prison. Carol placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him an understanding look. He nodded and continued walking. Carol turned back to Daryl and silently waited.

When he had the earth packed down Daryl pushed the shovel into the ground at the head of the grave as a temporary grave marker and finally fell to his knees as a sob escaped him, he couldn't hold it back any longer. Waves of grief rolled through him and tears made tracks down his face. He hadn't cried in years – never found much use in it as a child and swore when he was 8-years-old that he'd never do it again but he found himself breaking that promise today. Carol sat down next to him but didn't offer the comfort of a shoulder to cry on knowing Daryl wouldn't take it. She could see the emotions rolling through him in the way his body shuddered and tensed; every once in a while a sound, a whimpering cry, escaped his lips – still, he tried to hide his pain with silence.

Patiently she waited, waited until she saw the tension leave his body. His emotions were spent, and she shuffled closer to him but still did not touch.

"He did it fer me." His voice was hoarse and broken; he didn't elaborate so Carol asked.

"What happened?"

"He drew walkers to the meetin' place and took out a few o' the Governor's men . . . Not the Gov though, din' see his body lyin' around. Probably got to Merle first. Killed him and left him to turn. And then I found him . . . an' . . . an' had to put him down." Another, weaker, wave of emotion rolled through him but it didn't last, he was too spent. Carol gently placed a hand on his arm. He didn't move it away. To her surprise he leaned over and lay his temple on her shoulder and breathed a heavy sigh, shoulders sinking.

"I'm sorry about your brother, Daryl."

"Me too."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hello again! Yeah, I didn't know if this fic had any more to it but it seems it did, ha ha. Anyway, there's a bit of language in this chapter so fair warning. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. But the plot is.

-Chapter 2-

The two of them sat together silently for a time, lost in their own thoughts. Daryl was brought from his inner turmoil when he felt Carol shiver beside him. Winter was still a ways off but the sun falling had brought cooler air upon them and she was only wearing a thin tank top. With stiff knees and sore back Daryl stood up and offered Carol his hand. He helped her up and they dusted themselves off then headed towards the prison for the night.

When the next morning came Daryl was nowhere to be found. He wasn't in his cell or on his perch. He wasn't at the tables eating breakfast or down in the tombs letting off steam against walkers. The showers were empty and so was the guard tower and makeshift cemetery outside.

The group had gathered in the cafeteria trying to think of any other place Daryl could have gone. Carol was absent, off looking in one other spot on a hunch.

"Do you think he went hunting?" Glenn asked.

"Possibly. I sure hope not with the Governor still out there, he'll be coming at us soon. And we need to decide what we're going to do," Rick replied.

"Rick?" The group turned to look at Carol who had returned, strangely, with her pillow and blanket tucked under her arm. "You guys are gonna want to see this," she had a small smile on her face as she gestured for the others to follow, "Be quiet."

They got up and followed her to the other part of the cell block, where Merle had torn the place apart looking for weed – it was the one place they hadn't thought to check. Merle had claimed the section for himself, refusing to bed down where the rest of the group stayed, even his brother. Stuffing and fabric were still strewn about all over the place and Carol ascended the stairs to the second level, the group following as quietly as they could manage. She walked to the farthest cell and gestured for them to take a peek. Curious, they all approached and stuck their heads around the corner, looking into the cell.

And there he was. Curled up on his brother's bedroll, snoring softly. A now-empty bottle of whiskey lay near his head. That explained how they were able to get near without his waking up – Daryl was usually an extremely light sleeper, any noise at all rousing him to alertness. The many years he'd spent alone at the mercy of his father taught his body to stay aware, even in sleep – those precious seconds between unconscious and conscious were the difference between another drunken beating and finding safety in the woods behind his house. But the whiskey lulled him into a deep sleep, unable to sense anything around him.

Carol knew Daryl wouldn't like the others seeing him like this, hell, he'd be embarrassed to wake up with her there, but she couldn't resist sharing this tender, peaceful moment with them. They were his family, his only family now, and deserved to share in these moments too. Goodness knows he would need his newfound family more than ever right now and Carol was determined to show him what it meant to have one.

She knew, without a doubt, that Merle loved Daryl – enough to give his life, obviously. He was the only 'family' Daryl had ever known growing up but an older brother with as much damage, if not more, with zero knowledge of healthy family dynamics couldn't have been enough. And Carol decided to honor Merle's sacrifice and love for his brother by showing Daryl what Merle, through no fault of his own, never could – a real family.

The others straightened up, a little taken aback at the scene, but relieved Daryl hadn't disappeared. With a soft smile, Carol shooed them away again and then laid out her blanket and pillow next to Daryl, careful not to disturb him and sat down.

Daryl woke soon after the group left and Carol had made herself comfortable, working on mending clothes since gun cleaning would have been a bit too noisy. Daryl blinked as the scene came into focus, propping himself up on an elbow and rubbing his eyes. He wasn't completely hung over, just a minor headache and he was thirsty. But he was definitely confused.

"The hell you doin' here?" he mumbled, too tired to give his words any bite. He wasn't really angry anyway. Carol continued her sewing but her lips quirked up in a wry smile.

"Waiting on you to get your sorry butt outta bed. Nearly gave us all a heart attack when we couldn't find you this morning. I saw you go to your cell last night, what happened?"

Daryl sighed and lie back down, arm over his face.

"Couldn' sleep. Then I remembered the whiskey I found in the car yesterday. Stupid son of a bitch found himself a liquor store before offing himself . . ." Daryl paused for a long moment, "Least he got that much I guess. Didn' leave much for me neither, jus' enough to pass out. Asshole," he gave a bitter laugh but Carol could hear the pain in it, then, "How'd ya find me?"

"Well, we looked everywhere. Everywhere but here, don't know why I didn't think of it sooner than I did but then I thought 'he'd probably wanna be where his brother was' so I came lookin' around here. And there you were."

Daryl snorted and sat up. How well this woman knew him kinda freaked him out a bit. Standing, he stretched, still a little sore from yesterday.

"We're gonna decide what to do today."

"Decide? Decide what?"

"Whether we leave or fight."

"Shit," Daryl growled and his body stiffened, his eyes going dangerously dark. He wanted the Governor dead, plain and simple. He knew, in his gut, that the Governor was the one to end his brother's life. Daryl knew monsters when he saw them – his daddy was a twisted prick but the Governor made him look like a saint – at least his father didn't try to hide the monster behind a 'nice guy' mask. You knew exactly what you were getting with Daddy Dixon. But the Governor just reeked of crazy; Daryl could see it the moment he laid eyes on him, alarms going off in his head. He had no idea how Merle got himself mixed up with the psycho, his brother could sniff those types out too. No sense in wondering about it now though, it was too late for that.

"I want him dead," Carol didn't need a name to know who Daryl was talking about.

"And if we decide to leave?" Daryl didn't answer. He wasn't stupid – this group was his family now, he'd told Rick just as much before he left yesterday. But how could he choose his new family over his brother? How could he just let Governor go if that's what the group wanted? Carol's one question sprung many more up in his mind and he shook his head to make them go away.

"I'll think about that after the decision's made. No sense worryin' 'bout it now."

"Alright then," Carol stood and, in a moment of bravery (or stupidity), she grasped his hand, intertwining her fingers with his and squeezed his hand, looking him straight in the eye. The action surprised him but he didn't pull his hand away. He knew what Carol meant with the gesture, she didn't have to say anything. He squeezed her hand in return.

Grabbing his crossbow with his other hand they left the cell to meet up with the group and decide their fates.

-End-

A/N: Yeah, I had to throw in just a tiny bit of adorable to relieve all the sadness I'm still feeling from that episode and the image of Daryl sleeping in his brother's bed just popped into my mind, ha ha. Well, I thought it was adorable anyway . . .

This is where I'm ending it for this story. I don't want to get into the conflict between the group and the Governor any more than I have. Figure I'll let the show and other fanfic authors do that. So consider this story complete.

Anyway, I hope you liked it and I'd really love it if you left a review. Thank you for reading, it's much appreciated.


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